Lifeless
by SuperSandra
Summary: You hold her closer, not planning on releasing your grip. The only thing you want in the world is to feel her tremble to your touch. IchiRuki. One-shot. Entirely in second person.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach. Title of owner goes to 久保 帯人. :3

**Author's Note: **Hello there, fellow Bleach fans! This is my first Bleach fic ever! YAY! It's a one-shot sparked by my piqued interest in the IchiRuki pairing (and after reading some comments regarding IchiHime). I've always wanted to write something in second person and what better way to do so then in a one-shot? There is no exact setting but if you'd like to speculate, then be my guest. If you don't like angst please stop reading and go read something fluffy and cute. :D

よろしくお願いします！

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**Lifeless**

**--**

For a split second you're surrounded by the darkness, the only audible sound to your ears is the exhalation from your slightly open mouth. Your heart is beating at a pace quicker than it would in any adrenaline rushed battle you have encountered before. Your body is aching with an insurmountable amount of pain and numbness that the only movement permissible to your body is the blinking of your eyes.

Before that second the hilt of your zanpakutou is clutched tightly between your long fingers almost as if it were glued together. And yet the next moment your fingers have easily separated from the hilt causing the zanpakutou to clatter on the pavement. Thick traces of blood from the sharp edge are now stained upon the ground. Blood of the enemy.

It seems as if you're on a stage and a lone spotlight shines upon her, guiding you to trust your instincts and run to her. It is only after a flash of a second when you are before her small frame lying on the ground. There is a pang of hope within your mind that you will see her breathing. You think that by looking at her closer, you'll be able to see her movement.

So you kneel down, close in proximity. Wisps of her dark hair are covering her face from your view so you softly move them away with your hand. You see that her eyes are closed and her mouth is formed in a straight line. You wish that soon her eyes will be filled with annoyance and that she'll open that mouth to yell at you for worrying so much about her. No, you don't wish. Your mind tells you that it will happen.

You call out her name in a voice so low you're not even sure if you heard it yourself.

You say it again, louder this time. "Rukia."

She is unmoving. You nudge her shoulder a bit, ignoring the slow seeping of redness coming out from beneath her robes. It takes you all the control in the world to not shout out her name frantically when she doesn't answer you.

Your control is not enough. In one swift motion, her fragile body is in your strong arms. You are careful not to crush her but she is secure in your hold. Your clothes and your hands are stained with her blood. It mixes with your own blood from your raw wounds. All of this is irrelevant to you as you clutch her body with one arm and use your other hand to touch her face.

Her skin is cold like her own zanpakutou and you wonder if this is just a coincidence. You grind your teeth together and say her name again. You shake her body slightly in the process. The only thing you want in the world is to feel her tremble to your touch.

She is unreceptive. There is no tremble. No words. No breathing.

You feel the pain within your chest deepen, setting itself to tick like a time bomb. Your throat is dry to the point where your last calling of her name is barely above a raspy whisper. You hold her closer, not planning on releasing your grip. You will never release yourself from her.

You place your forehead atop of hers and the contrast is apparent. Your forehead is hot and sweaty and hers is cold and clammy. You start to feel your body have small convulsions and your breathing is labored and difficult. This pain is indescribable, like nothing you have ever felt.

You shut your eyes, you forehead still on hers. And without warning, your sobs come out hard. Your eyes, although shut tight, have a flow of tears streaming out from the corners. Droplets fall from your chin and land on the porcelain skin of her neck.

You ask questions no one can answer.

"Why am I alive?

Why…

is she is lifeless?"

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AN: How was it? Sorry for Rukia's passing.

I love her just as much as the next fan, but I have this thing with writing tragedies and it happening between two people who are very much in love with each other. Please review if you can! Although I don't plan on making this one-shot into a continuous story, I would love to experiment with second person views and possibly making another IchiRuki story. I'd just like your feedback on that though! Thank you again!

ありがとうございます！


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